Out Damn Spot
by drakien
Summary: Post HBP ... Snape is surprised to see a new Death Eater enter the ranks. Rating for violence, and AU with the release of Book 7
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, and I make no money from my endeavors.**

**A/N: **I've been working on this fic for awhile, and have come to the realization that it really must be posted before Book 7, else my entire premise would go to pot. As such, I'm probably going to be posting 1-2 chapters daily. I'd really love reviews so I can know what you think of each chapter as it comes…it helps me improve. That being said, enjoy!

**Chapter 01**

It had been two months since the death of Albus Dumbledore.

Severus Snape, former Potions Master of Hogwarts and most reviled Wizard in the world at large, had spent that time in the good graces of the Dark Lord. He brewed potions when asked, and participated in sporadic raids, but for the most part was left to his own devices.

It was during these quiet times that he found his mind wandering to the past. He was a long way from coming to terms with his role in his mentor's demise; there were times when he wondered why he didn't just brew something and end his pitiful excuse for a life.

Amidst these morbid thoughts, what puzzled and disturbed him the most was that when he thought back over the past few years the only person that really stood out, aside from Albus, was Hermione Granger. Though he wouldn't admit it if tortured, he had taken secret pleasure in watching her develop from an annoying know-it-all into a brilliant young woman. There was a small part of him that had even considered pursuing her, after graduation.

But that was…before.

All that being said it was, needless to say, an enormous surprise to see the object of his most hidden thoughts tossed roughly into the center of the ring of Death Eaters at one of the meetings.

Seemingly unafraid, she stood and glared at the two who had manhandled her, brushing the dirt off of her robes.

"Goyle, Nott…what excellent entertainment you have brought us this evening," a smooth reptilian voice said.

"A Mudblood, M'lord," Goyle groveled. "She was walkin' straight 'ere."

"How thoughtful of her," Voldemort said, eying her curiously. "Now why does the little Mudblood seem familiar?"

"My Lord," Lucius spoke up, stepping forward. "This is Potter's Mudblood friend, Hermione Granger. She has been discussed in the past." He eyed her lasciviously. "And you were present when we…_dealt_…with her and her family a fortnight ago."

"Of course. Interesting," he said, looking her up and down.

Hermione, who had been watching Voldemort fearlessly, dropped into a deep curtsey. "My Lord," she murmured, eyes downcast. "I believe your followers have been lax in their duties, and allowed me into your presence armed." She reached into the sleeve of her robes and pulled out a wand. "I surrender my wand to you freely."

He wasn't entirely certain what Lucius had been referring to, but that moment was when Snape decided she was clearly insane. No witch or wizard willingly gave over his or her wand, particularly not when faced with a Dark Lord and his minions.

Lucius moved forward smoothly and snatched the wand from her hand, kicking her over in the process. As they all looked on, she stood, brushed off her robes again, then sank back into her curtsey.

"I assure you, Mudblood, their oversight will be addressed later," Voldemort said, his voice laced with promises of agony. Goyle and Nott shifted uncomfortably. "Now…"

He flicked his wand casually, and suddenly Hermione was frozen, stuck as surely as if there were chains holding her in place.

"Who sent you!" Voldemort hissed. "Your pathetic _Order_?"

"I come of my own accord," she said firmly. "I'm tired of being the brains behind all of Potter's little schemes. I've known him for nearly seven years, and it has become quite clear that he is in no way capable of defeating you, my Lord. Perhaps were Dumbledore alive, but Snape took care of that obstacle."

Her head being the only thing she could move, Hermione looked over to where Snape stood, unerringly picking him out from amongst the other masked figures.

"Well done, Sir."

Hermione's attention returned to the Dark Lord. "I'm sure you have heard that I am a witch of exceptional skill and intelligence. I'm also Harry Potter's best friend, able to get close to him." She paused, letting her words sink in. As they did, the invisible bonds seemed to loosen. She could tell she would be unable to move more than a foot or two in any direction, but it was a start. "I choose to be on the side that will win."

There was no warning.

"Legilimens!"

Voldemort was not gentle as he raked through her mind. He saw her increasing frustration with a spoiled boy who was becoming more and more erratic. He saw the despair and hopelessness that weighed everyone down once Dumbledore had been killed. He saw her willingness to serve him.

Hermione had managed to keep her feet during his brutal assault, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. She swayed slightly, but otherwise remained still.

"Tell me," Voldemort asked, seeming genuinely curious, "why would you choose to align yourself with the very people who would wipe your kind from the Earth?"

Hermione's eyes hardened and her determination was almost palpable. "Better a live _Mudblood_ than a dead one, My Lord. As I said, I choose to be on the winning side."

He eyed her speculatively. "Perhaps." Walking slowing away, he spoke again. "I still must say, I find myself questioning your sincerity. Not two weeks ago, your home and your family was destroyed by my followers. If I recall, you were forced to watch your parents die, then were tortured, raped, and left for dead. How is it that you are now here, seemingly unharmed?"

"A Glamour, My Lord. Your followers do their work well…I'll never be able to go out in public without it."

"I give you credit for persistence if nothing else, Mudblood."

As before, there was no warning before he snapped his wand at her.

"Crucio!" he shouted.

Snape could only look on as she fell to the ground from the pain of the curse. She was strong, he'd give her that…he'd seen many a full Death Eater scream in agony, yet the only sounds that passed her lips were small whimpers. It seemed to him like forever before it was lifted; he knew from experience it was an eternity for someone on the receiving end.

The Dark Lord circled her as she lay twitching at his feet.

"But a taste of the price to serve me, my sweet."

The witch took a shuddering breath and pushed herself to her knees. "As you wish, My Lord."

"Arise, then, little Mudblood. You see, you were correct that we have heard tales of your… accomplishments. However, the words of others are not sufficient to grant you entry to these ranks."

Bellatrix chose that moment to rush forward.

"My Lord! You would not seriously consider allowing this scum to linger in our presence?!"

"You _dare_ to question me, Bella? Crucio!" After only seconds of holding the curse, the witch was screaming as she writhed on the ground. "The decision is mine, and mine alone. You would _all_ do well to think before you question the plans of your Lord!"

He turned from the whimpering witch to face Hermione again.

"Crabbe, Macnair, Goyle, Jugson, Mulciber, Rookwood; perhaps you would like to…entertain our guest? Lucius, give the Mudblood her wand back."

His eyes didn't leave hers when he issued his commands.

"You, my dear, shall prove yourself worthy of joining these ranks. Kill them if you can; if they die, it will be their own fault for not being stronger than a filthy Mudblood like yourself. If you survive, which I sincerely doubt, I shall…consider…your application."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: See chapter 1**

**Chapter 02**

As a dueling master, Snape found himself quite interested in the skirmish that was about to commence. As her former professor, he was also interested to see how such an intelligent and powerful witch would handle herself. As a man, however, he experienced a strange tightening in his chest…there was little doubt in his mind that she'd be dead shortly. Only once, in his youth, had he found himself a witness to a six-on-one duel, and that person had been a dueling Grandmaster, the highest rank awarded. Add that to the curse she'd endured only minutes earlier, and she didn't stand a chance.

When Hermione took her wand from Lucius, her hand was still trembling slightly. Everyone else in the clearing stepped back, certain they were in for a good show. Without preamble, the six Death Eaters surrounded her. Snape was surprised when she merely stood there, wand at her side, drawing slow, deep breaths. Surely she wasn't just resigning herself to death without a fight!

Her actions seemed to also confuse the Death Eaters around her; they all looked to the Dark Lord, who signaled impatiently for them to begin.

At first, unused to having multiple Death Eaters focused on a single target, they took turns hurtling spells at her. Without even drawing her wand, Hermione neatly ducked, sidestepped, and twisted around each one. She moved with such speed and grace, Snape was sure she was somehow enhancing her movements …the Hermione Granger he knew from Hogwarts had never moved like that, plus the tremors had all but vanished, as though she'd had days to recover from the nerve damage caused by the Cruciatus. Yet his subtle probes encountered no trace of magic assisting her movements.

He, along with everyone else, then received another shock…when Jugson sent out a nasty-looking purple curse meant to liquefy her internal organs, she reached out her hand…and caught it. In the space of a second, the energy pooled in her hand, amplified and darkened until it was almost black, then went hurtling back to its source. Jugson just stared dumbly at the gaping hole where his chest had once been, made a wet gurgling noise and slid to the ground.

The fight was now five on one, though she was still surrounded and there was no cover to be seen. Then Hermione brought her wand up, and all hell broke loose.

Anyone watching that day would remain forever in awe of the witch before them. As Snape's eyes tracked her movements while she leapt, spun, and rolled, his mind was trying to follow the barrage of curses and hexes she was firing off. What unnerved him, and obviously everyone else there, was her complete silence. Each spell was cast without her making a sound. Furthermore, there were colors he'd never seen before...mostly dark colors that bordered on black, as Jugson's curse had turned. A part of him wondered where she'd picked them up. '_Probably some dusty book,'_ he thought snidely.

She bore down on the five men with the force of an avalanche, casting spells faster than they could react. Even when they tried to physically overpower her, rushing in all at once, she tossed them off with practiced ease. At one point, she lost her wand, and the fools thought that would give them an advantage; even Severus was certain that the fight was done. Imagine their surprise when she continued casting just as easily, raw power shooting from her fingers.

When it was finally over, Crabbe, Goyle, and Jugson had fallen, dead by her hand. Macnair, Rookwood, and Mulciber were still alive, but completely incapacitated. Hermione held up her hand and six wands cracked against her palm without her having said a word; she'd barely broken a sweat. She turned and handed her own wand to Lucius, who actually appeared a bit more respectful; they all were, after that display.

Stepping forward, she dropped to one knee and offered up the wands of the defeated Death Eaters to the Dark Lord.

"It is done, My Lord," she said.

"So it is, little Mudblood, so it is. Tell me, why did you only kill three of the six?"

"My Lord, I chose to rid you of those weakest among your followers. I would not presume to deprive you of your true followers, those who have the strength to aid you in your fight against Potter."

"Very well," the Dark Lord said, apparently coming to a decision. "It seems we shall now have a Mudblood spy in the castle. Hold her."

Two of the Death Eaters moved forward and hauled the young witch upright. Reaching out, Voldemort pulled her left arm up roughly and pressed the tip of his wand into the unblemished skin.

Though she paled considerably, Hermione's face remained impassive; she didn't make a sound as the Dark Mark was branded into her flesh.

In seconds it was done, and the two holding her dropped her roughly to the ground.

"You will all be summoned in a week, when we will discuss these new developments." He looked disdainfully at the witch before him. "Think of this as a probationary period. If you want to live, I suggest you have something useful to contribute. Snape!"

He quickly stepped forward, kneeling to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

"You were the Mudblood's teacher once…you will train her in our ways."

"As you wish, My Lord," Snape said, his eyes remaining downcast.

One by one, the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters disappeared, until it was only Hermione and Snape in the clearing. He watched as she remained on the ground, tracing the Dark Mark on her arm.

"The burning never really goes away, though you'll begin to understand how much better it is at present compared to when you're actually Summoned. And in case you were considering it as your Gryffindor bravery deserts you, it's a bit late to change your mind. I doubt the Order will be quick to accept you into the fold, after what happened with me; you'd be tossed in Azkaban before you could say boomslang."

Much to his annoyance, she ignored him completely.

"I must say," he pressed, "you are one of the last people I'd have ever thought to see here."

Hermione picked herself up slowly, and then turned to face him. She looked at him with such coldness that he actually fought himself not to take a step back.

"I somehow doubt, _Sir_, that you ever thought much of me at all," she bit out.

Now he was completely confused. And Severus Snape hated being confused. He strode forward and grabbed her upper arms, resisting the urge to shake her.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he hissed.

"What I must," she snarled back, refusing to back down.

He was scrambling now. With Dumbledore dead at his own hand, none within the Order trusted him. Were her words true? Was she really such an opportunist, believing Voldemort would be victorious?

Or was Hermione's willingness to join the ranks of Death Eaters part of a plan to fill his position as a spy? Though hope flared briefly, he negated that possibility. The Dark Lord would have found her out in an instant. With he and Dumbledore both gone, no one was really left who could instruct her in Occulemency; and even the brightest student in the world couldn't have learned it well enough to fool the Dark Lord in two months.

He sighed, feeling a headache coming on. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a coin and offered it to Hermione. Though she looked at him warily, she took it. The coin itself looked much like a galleon, though there was a fairly deep scratch across both sides.

"It is a Portkey, that will take you to the place where I will train you," Snape said stiffly. "Much like the coins you so cleverly spelled in your fifth year, it will heat up if I need to pass a message, or vice versa. Unless you are unavoidably detained, I expect to see you each day this week, precisely at three in the morning. If I am to be forced to 'teach', you will do well to learn."

Without saying a word, Hermione nodded once and disappeared.

Snape sighed again. Despite what everyone believed, he had not killed the Headmaster willingly. As soon as Narcissa Malfoy forced him into that accursed Unbreakable Vow, he'd gone to Dumbledore immediately. Fearing that young Draco might be forced into an action that would forever doom him to his father's fate, Albus extracted his own promise from Snape in the form of a second Unbreakable Vow. Oh, they'd fought over it. But in the end, Snape knew he would carry out the Headmaster's wish.

His actions on that fateful night had assured Snape's position as one of the favored Death Eaters. But he had no way of passing along the information he acquired, no one to trust. And now he found he was doubting his own position…he had not known about the raid on the Granger house, nor of the attack on Miss Granger herself.

If she was a spy for the Order, unlikely as it was, she wouldn't be quick to trust him either…were he truly loyal to the Dark Lord, her life would be forfeit.

One way or another, he needed to figure out where she stood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 01

**Chapter 03**

Hermione arrived the next morning at precisely the right time. They were in a nondescript clearing, in the middle of a nondescript forest.

"Miss Granger," he acknowledged.

"Snape," she nodded coolly. "Shall we get on with it?"

Her aloofness irritated him. "Very well, but be warned…despite your display last night, you will find me a much more…engaging opponent."

"As you say," she replied, saluting him with her wand.

They stood facing each other, each in a dueling stance. He noted that her positioning was slightly different than his own, but suppressed his initial desire to correct her. The little chit would find out soon enough.

"Begin," he commanded.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

When he came to, feeling like he'd been hit with a bludger, Snape found himself on the ground. Bound and wandless.

Hermione stood over him, holding his wand.

"Why don't we just make things easier on you and assume that I can adequately defend myself. I need to know more practical things…what the Dark Lord will be expecting, for example, and how I keep from getting myself killed."

Snape snorted and winced as she released him and handed him his wand, sheathing her own. Quickly, he brought his wand up, thinking to catch her unawares, but before he could utter a sound he felt a wand pressed to his throat. Her expression remained placid, and he put his hands up in surrender.

"Don't give away your abilities," he advised.

She arched an eyebrow, mimicking one of his trademark expressions.

"The Dark Lord tends to eliminate people he sees as a threat," Snape elaborated. "You've already demonstrated your abilities to the point that you were accepted…there's no need to reveal more unless it's necessary." Hermione nodded, seeing his point.

"Tell me about the meetings," she requested.

He eyed her carefully, but her face gave nothing away. Probably a result of the bloody Glamour. He decided to chance honesty.

"Lately he's been calling us weekly. If you don't arrive promptly, have the information he desires, or if you tell him something that displeases him, you will be subjected to the Cruciatus. You bore up admirably, by the way, though I doubt that will last."

Hermione nodded, accepting the backhanded compliment.

"I've had practice," she said, though she didn't elaborate. "How often are the Revels, or the raids?"

"Typically one a month, now. They've been increasing in frequency as he grows more certain of his power. The Revels will often follow a successful raid…get used to very little sleep if you wish your position to remain undetected by those in the castle."

She shrugged. "I can go for six days without sleep if I have to, but I usually don't sleep more than two hours a night anyhow."

It was Snape's turn to arch his eyebrow.

"I've been busy," she said simply.

"Indeed."

Without any warning he launched at her, attempting a physical attack. She stepped into his lunge, gripping his wrist firmly and turning her back to him, using his own momentum to send him sailing over her head. However, instead of letting go, she jerked his arm back; this reversal of movement slammed him into the ground. While he was momentarily stunned from the impact, she swept her body to the ground at his side. In an instant her legs were crossed over his chest, and his hand was pinned firmly, palm up, at her shoulder. While he struggled to regain his breath, Snape debated an escape attempt. As though reading his mind, Hermione arched her back slightly. His elbow was forced to bend in the wrong direction…there was just enough pressure to let him know that she could break it, if she chose.

Somehow, Hermione Granger had become a force to be reckoned with.

"Did I mention I'd spent some time in Korea?" she asked conversationally. "Now, is playtime over or do you actually enjoy this?"

After indicating that he would cease his attacks, Hermione released him, stood, and held out a hand to help him up. Snape eyed it warily, making her grin.

"I promise not to send you arse over tit again. By the way, I've noticed over the years that you telegraph your movements with your eyes about one out of three times…you should be more careful. Now get up, old man…we've got work to do."

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Work they did. The week passed quickly for both of them. Snape found himself looking forward to the early hours of morning. Hermione was tireless, it seemed, and her dueling skills continued to astonish him. Many mornings, they just sat and talked. She learned quickly, and he was not surprised when she lived through the next meeting.

They maintained their practice session schedule, each becoming more comfortable with the other. Granger and Snape slowly changed into Hermione and Severus. She did, however, remain as unreadable as ever, which continued to bother him.

In early September, he started to notice that she was showing signs of exhaustion for the first time. When he questioned her about it, her answer shocked him.

"I've been asked to teach."

"Teach," he said flatly, disbelief etched in his tone.

She nodded. "They couldn't find anyone qualified to fill the positions on such short notice. I've been told it will only be for half of the year, but I have my doubts."

"Position_s_? Implying more than one?"

"First through third year Transfiguration, because Minerva is swamped with her duties as Headmistress, and all of your Potions classes. How in Merlin's name did you keep the dunderheads from ending their lives prematurely?"

A thought came to mind, and a slow smirk surfaced as he leaned in, as though he were about to confer a great secret.

"Constant vigilance," he whispered.

She threw back her head and laughed. Even though it was a tired one, it was the first time since she'd come before the Dark Lord that he'd heard any honest amusement from her.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

One day she halted their conversation, rolling her eyes and looking completely exasperated.

"Will you get on with it already!" she exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Legilimency, you git. You've been wanting to for weeks now; I don't know why you didn't just ask and get it over with."

"Very well," he said stiffly, irritated that she had read him so accurately. "Attempt to block me. _Legilimens_!"

Snape delved into her mind, and abruptly encountered an obsidian wall. Unlike every other person he'd encountered, her wall was decorated…designs of amber and jade stretched in every direction. He attacked the wall with all of his strength. And it shattered. Memories swirled around him, ones that confirmed everything she'd told the Dark Lord. He smirked as he pulled away, ending the spell.

"A pitiful attempt, Miss Granger."

"I'm glad you think so, Sir. I have nothing to hide. Would you care to give me Veratiserum as well, or was that sufficient?"

Something in her voice made him look at her sharply. Could she have fooled him? Snape shook his head. She was no better skilled at Occulemency than Potter had been. They continued their discussion, but something about the encounter would plague him for weeks to come.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

**A/N: **Thank you all for the lovely reviews so far. I promise I'll reply to them as soon as the schoolwork for the week is done! I plan to post the next chapter tomorrow morning…I'll issue a warning now that it is the darkest chapter of the entire story.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 01**

**WARNING!!! This chapter contains fairly detailed descriptions of evil Death-Eater activities. If you are easily squicked, or disapprove of this sort of thing, you can skip ahead to Chapter 05; allusions in future chapters can probably get you caught up.**

**Chapter 04**

Nearly two months had passed since Hermione Granger had materialized in their midst. Most of the Death Eaters still refused to acknowledge her at all, though it didn't appear to bother her in the least.

The Dark Lord had called several of his followers to him, this time in the ruins of an old Muggle church. As was her custom, Hermione stood to Severus' left side. She'd said nothing, and didn't think he'd noticed, but her position was a tactical one. As she stood, she in no way would interfere with his wand-hand. She could also spin quickly and cover his back, easily getting to her own wand. These were the little things that constantly ran through the back of her mind; a Death Eater she might be, but she trusted none of them save her former professor.

Not that she let him know that.

It still amused her, the way she'd occasionally catch him watching her with a disconcerted expression. She knew he was troubled, and was entertained by the fact that she'd gotten under his skin so easily.

"My loyal followers," Voldemort said extravagantly. "We have work to do this night!" He pinned Hermione with red eyes. "It is a special gift to you, my little Mudblood; your first raid."

Hermione curtseyed deeply. "I am honored, My Lord. May I ask who shall feel your wrath on this auspicious night?"

The Dark Lord cackled, sending shivers down the spines of all in his presence.

"Indeed, my child…in fact, I believe you even know the vermin we shall visit. Perhaps the name Entwhistle is familiar?"

It was. Kevin Entwhistle was a Muggle-born Ravenclaw in her year. Hermione nodded.

"An ungrateful upstart, My Lord. A true irritant in my classes."

"Well then, we shall take care of this 'irritant' for you. Come, let us all give our Mudblood a fine show, shall we?"

Everyone present bowed deeply, disapparating one by one.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXO**

They closed on the house, wands drawn, making no attempt to remain quiet. It was child's play to get inside, and then the game was on.

As they chased the family around the house, casting hexes and prolonging their agony, Snape was hit with a stray curse and dropped to the ground. And he had a sneaking suspicion that the attack had not been accidental. Suddenly, he felt warmth spreading over the wound. Trying to turn around with his wand drawn, he saw Hermione, who was carefully shielding them behind the sofa. Using another spell he wasn't familiar with, she removed any lingering effects of the spell. Leaning in, she spoke quietly as she hauled him up. "Watch your back, Severus…that wasn't meant to torture, it was meant to cripple, and had no place here."

Then she was gone, disappearing back into the melee and leaving him confused yet again.

When it was all said and done, the two adults were dead. Kevin was huddled in a corner with his two younger sisters, disarmed and defenseless.

Lucius Malfoy sneered at them. "It appears we shall have entertainment tonight, my friends. Bring them!"

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Back at Malfoy Manor, they had divided into two groups; most of the men were off in one corner of the room, taking turns with the sisters.

The other group, the smaller one, was occupied with Kevin. Bellatrix was currently at him, alternating between slicing hexes and rounds of the Cruciatus.

Voldemort sat in a throne-like chair on a raised dais, looking on with the detached interest of a parent watching his children playing in the sandbox.

From her spot beside Snape, Hermione sniffed disdainfully. "Pathetic," she sneered.

Bellatrix whipped around with her wand now on Hermione. "And you could do better, you little Mudblood slut?"

Hermione didn't even draw her wand. "It wouldn't be difficult, considering your so-called curses are about as effective as throwing flobberworms. You call that pathetic tickle a Cruciatus?" She sneered contemptuously. "I've seen Puffskeins that are more vicious than you."

Severus was more than a little awed. With just a few words, the girl had sent Bella into a fit of inarticulate rage. He wouldn't be surprised if she had an apoplexy, right there on the spot. Even seasoned Death Eaters stepped cautiously around the mad witch, and yet Hermione obviously felt in no way threatened.

Their staring match was cut short by a dark chuckle.

"So anxious to play, my dear?" the Dark Lord asked Hermione. "Perhaps you should stand aside, Bella…you need to learn to share your toys."

Choking, Bellatrix did as she was told and stepped back. As Hermione stepped forward to stand over Kevin his eyes locked onto her, silently pleading. She ignored him, raising her wand and pointing it directly at his heart.

"_Crucio_," she whispered.

To cast the Cruciatus well, one must channel as much hatred as possible. Some people were obviously more talented in that department than others; the Dark Lord cast the most severe that Snape had personally endured. One of its advantages was that it was a curse that gave off no color; it was extremely difficult to determine the location of the caster, if he or she chose to remain hidden.

The curse Hermione now held her victim under as he screamed actually shimmered slightly, as though radiating pure, unfiltered evil. Her focus was so precise that a blistered circle started to appear on the boy's chest.

She let up for a moment and turned to Bellatrix, ignoring the few others that had taken an interest.

"That is how to properly cast such a curse," she said primly, as calm as if they were chatting over tea and biscuits. "Although I find there to be so many other options available. But then, to know that one would be required to study, and I very much doubt that would be one of your strengths."

The others watching were obviously surprised with her casual contempt and even tone as she continued. "Curses and hexes are obviously useful," she stated, "but one also should familiarize oneself with more hands-on mechanisms. Muggles were surprisingly creative in this regard, probably because they didn't have magic to aid them."

She flicked her wand and a long wooden table appeared. Another swish had Kevin secured on it. His hands were pulled above his head with straps, and there were similar restraints on his ankles. A spoked wheel was attached to the side, connected to a system of ropes and pulleys.

"This is a Rack. It was used in medieval times…each turn of the wheel pulls the limbs further and further apart. It's a delicate art; too hard and the pain makes them pass out, then you have to wait until they recover." She gave it a twist and the boy screamed, trailing off in a whimper.

"Perfect," she said.

Hermione spent the next several minutes slowly tightening the wheel. Kevin alternated between crying and begging her to stop.

When she finally did, she conjured a silver implement. "The Pear. Its name comes from its shape, obviously. There's a screw mechanism that allows for progressive expansion…like so."

She twisted the wheel on the rack sharply, and when he screamed inserted the instrument into his open mouth; she tapped the knob on the side with her wand. Slowly, agonizingly, it turned, forcing his mouth wider and wider. The Death Eaters watched in morbid fascination as it continued until a resounding CRACK echoed through the room; his jaw had been broken. As he sobbed, Hermione gave the rack another turn.

"Ah, but Mother always did tell me to share," she said regretfully. "Macnair? Would you like to play with my toy?"

"I'm at your service, Lady," he said mockingly. She ignored his sarcasm.

"Here you are," Hermione said, handing him a sharpened piece of iron about a meter in length. She tapped the end with her wand, and it was instantly red-hot.

"I grow weary of the pitiful pleading looks. Fix that for me, would you?"

He looked surprised, but stepped up to the boy's head.

"Here, let me open his eyes for you," she said smugly, giving the wheel on the rack a jerk.

As they all listened to the screams that accompanied the hideous sizzling sound, Hermione addressed them, much as a teacher would lecture her students.

"Did you know that eyeballs will actually explode when they're heated? It's a fascinating thing to watch, really." She tightened the rack once more. "Hmmm…Lucius? Might I interest you in a bit of sport?"

"What did you have in mind?" he inquired, genuinely curious at this point.

"Do you know what a sledgehammer looks like?"

With a flick of his wand, a large sledge hovered in front of him. "Something like this?"

"Exactly," Hermione practically purred. "Give me just a moment."

With a final vicious twist and a sickening popping noise, she dislocated Kevin's arms. "Now then, be a dear and smash his kneecaps for me? There's a love."

Lucius complied. The human body can really take only so much abuse before the brain overrides things. Kevin finally lapsed into unconsciousness. Hermione poked at him, but he didn't move.

"It seems our toy is broken. It no longer amuses me," she said coldly.

A wave of her wand vanished the table, leaving the broken body suspended in the air. She sheathed her wand, and as she raised her hands Kevin rose higher and higher; he came to a stop about ten feet above them.

Arms spread apart, with her fingers spread and reminding Severus of talons, Hermione slowly began to bring her hands together. It seemed as though nothing was happening…for a short time. Then, as though held by the invisible hands of a giant, Kevin's body began to fold together. When he passed the point of human flexibility the screams began again, this time accompanied by the sounds of bones crushing.

The invisible press continued as Hermione brought her hands closer and closer. It seemed like an eternity before blood and other fluids started to fall, and the screaming ended in a choked gurgle.

Hermione's hands, now firmly clasped, gave a firm shake, then were parted; the mess of flesh and bone dropped to the ground at their feet with a loud splat. There was total silence as she flicked her robes clean.

"Well, well, little Mudblood," Voldemort said musingly, breaking the hush that had fallen over the room. "You've not only provided some excellent entertainment, but you've managed to impress me with your creativity." He gestured her closer, holding out his arm. "I believe the excitement has left me a bit tired. You may escort be back to my quarters."

Hermione stepped up without hesitation, her face remaining impassive. "As you wish, My Lord."

Rodolphus had to physically restrain his wife as she moved forward to attack the woman who had neatly taken the place of favor in the eyes of their Lord that had once belonged to her.

As everyone departed, a few at a time, Severus remained…staring at the ruins of what had once been a person. A person utterly destroyed by a mere slip of a girl.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

**A/N: Not too awful, was it? Please review! I haven't had more than 5 hours of sleep in the last three days, and the reviews have been keeping me upbeat through it all. Hugs to all!!**


	5. Chapter 5

See Chapter 01 for the disclaimer. I make nothing from this.

**Chapter 05**

The following weeks passed by in a fairly quiet manner. The weather continued to get colder; several mornings Snape woke to find frost on the ground, and the days when the snow would start piling up were just around the corner.

Though he wouldn't openly admit it, he was still unsettled by her unruffled attitude and outright viciousness at the Revel. He hadn't quite figured out how to bring it up, however, so he remained silent.

Then, one morning in early November, everything went to hell swiftly and unexpectedly.

Dawn was just breaking over the horizon when he felt the Summons. Hermione, who'd ended up staying longer than usual, had left for Hogwarts just minutes earlier.

He sighed as he snagged his robes and mask before touching his wand to his Mark and Apparating.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Snape had no sooner appeared than his wand flew from his hand. In an instant, he found himself bound and hexed from three directions.

"Enough," said a voice that made him shiver. He quickly darted his eyes around, seeing eight of his so-called 'brothers' and the Dark Lord. Hermione wasn't there. Snape otherwise remained still, trying to brace himself for whatever was coming.

"It seems, my followers, that someone has been keeping secrets from us." Angry muttering swept through the group.

_Shite._

"Indeed, it is difficult to believe, but I have it from a reliable source that our dear Severus was, in fact, a double agent for much of his time with us."

Though the Dark Lord spoke casually, there was an iciness to his voice that belied his fury.

_Double shite._

The Dark Lord continued. "I do not know of the damage this has brought to our Cause. It is possible that I could have brought down Potter years ago, were it not for his interference. I believed him loyal after the death of Dumbledore, but it seems he's just as much of a Muggle-loving fool as the rest of them.

"I have decided that each of you shall have five minutes to do as you wish with the traitor. Lucius, it is my wish that you be the last…if he is alive, which I sincerely doubt, kill him and bring me his head."

"With pleasure, my Lord." Lucius bowed.

"I shall leave you to your amusements, then," the Dark Lord informed them. "Do not disappoint me."

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

The next half hour was a blur of pain. He was hexed to the brink of madness by Death Eater after Death Eater. A few chose their fists, and the sound of his bones breaking rang in his ears.

As a spy, Severus had come to terms with his own death long ago. However, he'd always secretly hoped he'd die quickly, when the Final Battle came. A fleeting regret crossed his mind that he wouldn't be able to help the Order. He also thought of Hermione. She'd become…important…over the last months; he would miss her.

His entire body was pulsing with agony when everything stopped abruptly. Something poked his side, and he couldn't suppress a whimper.

"Alive after all," Lucius said smugly. "I can handle this bit, Brothers. Go on ahead and tell the Dark Lord that I shall be returning after a bit of sport. I may be a while, so you might be interested in the 'entertainment' I was enjoying before we were Summoned. Feel free...they are quite delicious."

There were dark chuckles as the men Apparated away.

Lucius casually tossed Snape's wand to the ground, just out of his reach.

"Well, well, old friend," Lucius drawled. "It seems like you've finally outlived your usefulness to the Dark Lord. It was too long coming, if you ask me. I tried to convince him that you'd been betraying him all these years, but he wouldn't listen…until I had proof."

Snape was hardly listening as he tried to inch toward his wand.

"Ah, ah, Severus…none of that." Stepping up he pressed the end of his cane into Snape's wrist, pinning it to the ground as he summoned the wand and pocketed it again. Snape was too weak to fight him.

"The ultimate irony was that the proof was all but given to me by your little Mudblood bitch. I do find it a pity you broke so easily…I was hoping for a bit more of a challenge when I finally killed you. Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose."

He leveled his wand at the prone man. Snape closed his eyes, hoping his death would be quick.

"Ava…"

The rest of Lucius's curse was cut off by someone else's voice, and Snape's eye (the one that hadn't yet swollen shut) snapped open.

"Avada Kedavara!"

A green light surrounded Malfoy, who only had time to look slightly surprised before he crumpled to the ground, dead.

"Burn in Hell, you filthy bastard," Hermione bit out as she kicked his carcass before stepping over him to crouch beside Snape.

"What…doing…" he gasped out, trying futilely to escape his betrayer.

"Shut up, you daft man," she snapped as she looked him over. "Merlin, you're lucky I got here when I did. Drink this." She held him still and tipped a vial of some foul-tasting potion down his throat.

Snape sputtered, trying to force words through his ruined mouth. "Dark…Lord…"

"Yes, I know…the bloody Dark Lord will carve out my tripes with a spoon and hang me with my own intestines if he finds out." She met his gaze squarely. "Pity I don't plan on telling him any time soon."

"But…"

"Rest now," she instructed. "I'm taking you somewhere safe, then we can talk."

That was the last thing Snape remembered before everything went black.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Hermione was as good as her word. She got him settled in a safe place, took a few moments to tend the worst of his injuries, and then dosed him with several potions that would begin to heal him. As quickly as possible, she Apparated away. She had to act fast if things were going to work out according to plan.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

A/N: Thank you all SO much for the lovely reviews so far. I'm greatly enjoying each and every one of them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: See chapter 1**

**Chapter 06**

When he woke up, his years of spying automatically took over as he continued to feign sleep. The first thing he noticed was the faint smell of roses. Next, he heard the soft sound of something clinking, and the rustling of fabric that betrayed movement nearby. He almost gave himself away by twitching when a cool hand pressed against his forehead.

"You might as well open your eyes, Severus. I know you're awake."

Hermione.

Fragments of his final conscious memories ran through his mind. Lucius, gloating…saying that Hermione had betrayed him to the Dark Lord. Yet she'd killed Malfoy and saved his life, clearly in direct defiance of the Dark Lord's orders.

He cautiously opened his eyes, and found himself in an unfamiliar room.

"You're safe here," she said quietly. "It's Thursday evening; you've been unconscious for three days. I've got about an hour before we're supposed to report to the Dark Lord again. I told Minerva that I had a family emergency, and cancelled my remaining classes for the week; she doesn't know that my parents are dead." Hermione sighed.

Even recovering from his injuries, Snape was wary.

"Lucius claimed it was you who very nearly got me killed."

"And he was right. It was the only way I could get you out; I'm sorry." She looked distressed, but kept on. "You're well within your rights to despise me if you wish, but I think you and I are long overdue for a chat first."

"I'm not sure I follow," he rasped. She helped him sit up slightly and offered a glass of water. He was about to refuse when she took a drink from the cup herself, showing him it didn't contain anything harmful. He drank when the cup was offered again.

"Look, let's just drop the pretense," she huffed, easing him back onto the pillows. "Despite the initial doubts we both had, I don't think you don't believe I'm a fanatic supporter of the Dark Lord any more than I believe you killed the Headmaster willingly."

Snape was taken aback by her bluntness. "What makes you so sure?"

Hermione settled back in her chair, a faraway look in her eyes.

"During my fourth year I was a bit bored, so I decided that I was going to explore the castle, top to bottom. About three months in, I was walking through an unused corridor when a door appeared in the wall. It wasn't large; there was a chair, a small writing desk, some cupboards, and several bookshelves." She sighed. "I spent some time looking around, and when I finally left, Dumbledore was outside waiting. He told me it was a special room, designed by Salazar Slytherin himself. It was similar to the Room of Requirement, but would only open for a single person each generation. As far as I know, Albus and I were the only ones that knew about it. He called it…"

"The Shadow Lair," Snape whispered. "Slytherin always did have a flair for the dramatic."

"How did you…"

"I found it as well…in my fifth year," he replied, a tiny smirk twisting his mouth.

"Well then," Hermione continued. "After the funeral, I went to the Lair; I just needed some time for myself. I was sitting there, going over things, when Fawkes appeared with a package bearing Albus's seal."

She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a neatly embroidered black handkerchief. Tapping it with her wand and murmuring an incantation, Snape watched as it turned into a folded piece of parchment. He was slightly alarmed when he noticed that it looked remarkably similar to a Howler, though it was purple instead of red. Hermione, obviously unconcerned, tapped the parchment with her wand.

It rose up into the air to hover above them, and the voice of the Headmaster filled the room.

"_My dear Miss Granger,_

_If you have received this message, I fear the worst has happened and I am no longer with you. Of all of the students I've seen come through Hogwarts, I trust you alone with the following knowledge. Severus Snape is innocent of any wrong-doing. _

_Before the start of your Sixth Year, he was approached at his home by a distraught Narcissa Malfoy. She believed the Dark Lord had plans for her son, and in her fear for Draco, she begged Severus to look out for him. Due to the presence of her sister, Severus was forced to make an Unbreakable Vow._

_He came to me immediately afterwards, fearing, as Narcissa had, that Draco's task would be to kill me. Because of his Vow, Severus would be forced to end my life in Draco's stead. He informed me of his choice to break the Vow and die himself instead of performing such an act. Much to his consternation, I forbade it. You see, when he came to me years ago, he took another oath…the Vow of Fealty. For nearly twenty years, Severus has been obligated to do whatever I asked of him._

_I am sure at this point everyone is convinced of his guilt. I feel that in your quest for knowledge, you have kept a somewhat more open mind. Harry has no doubt described the events from his perspective, where I begged for my life and Severus killed me in cold blood, then fled. _

_What he did not know was that my death was an act of mercy. You see, Miss Granger, I was already dying, and had been for some time. Severus was one of the very few who knew this. The entire encounter in the tower on the night of my death was completely orchestrated. My death would strengthen Harry's resolve, secure Severus' position as a 'loyal Death Eater', and make Tom overconfident. But it would also put an end to my suffering. Help Severus if you can…I worry for him. _

_Now then, down to business. It is my belief that it will not be long before Alastor Moody seizes control of the Order, if he has not done so already. He will be threatened by you, and by your influence on Harry, so will do everything in his power to exclude you from Order business and separate the two of you._

_You would never have heard me say this while I was alive, but I fear that Harry's efforts will fail, particularly with the group currently advising him. Therefore, I must place a heavy burden upon you, my child. You alone possess the determination and intelligence to do what needs to be done. Within you dwells the courage of a Gryffindor, the intelligence of a Ravenclaw, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, and the cunning of a Slytherin. It is because of this that the fate of the Wizarding world falls to you. In the end, I have complete faith that you will succeed._

_I have left you my Penseive. In it, you will find everything, even my very last memories, thanks to a special charm designed to transfer the entirety of my knowledge and experience to the Penseive upon my death. It should provide you with much of the information you seek. The portraits, both within the school and at Grimmauld Place, have agreed to help; you will find a small empty frame in the top left drawer that any portrait can enter. Simply call out what information you desire, and the portrait with the answer will come to you. _

_In addition, the sizable content of my Gringotts account has been moved to one of the anonymous vaults the Goblins have available…the key is yours, and the transaction was untraceable. The key to my home, which also serves as the portkey, I leave you as well. Finally, I have asked Fawkes to remain in your care. He has been a true and loyal companion for many years, and agreed to stay by your side as I could not._

_An object already in your possession will further aid you, as will your courage and tenacity. I know you will do everything within your formidable power to pursue the right course of action. _

Message complete, the letter re-folded itself and sank back into Hermione's lap.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

**A/N: Yaaay! Another chapter posted. Hopefully things are starting to become clearer. Everyone enjoying so far? Hit the little button and review if you are!!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 01. I'm still making no money from this, despite the fun I'm having writing it!**

**Chapter 07**

"I thought the old codger had finally lost it," she admitted, laughing bitterly. "He expected me, a Know-It-All _Mudblood_, not even of age, to achieve what even he could not. He was asking me to bring about the fall of Voldemort himself, all on my own. And he asked me to take care of you."

She looked at him oddly. "I probably would have done that anyhow, you know. Regardless, it took me two months of seemingly endless days to get through all of Albus's memories in the Pensieve," Hermione said softly. "The portraits kept me aware of the Order's worthless plotting, as well as the goings-on in the castle. In the entire time I was studying, not once did Harry or Ron, or anyone else for that matter, come by to see how I was getting along. At that point, I knew with complete certainty that I'd be left to my own devices; I'd have no help from anyone."

He interrupted. "But the Dark Lord said…that you…your parents…"

Pain flickered across her face. "It was about six weeks after Albus died…I'd gone home to see them; it was their anniversary, and I wanted to be home one last time before I had to take on…everything." She shook her head ruefully. "Bloody bastards got the drop on me…the Death Eaters were already at the house, and caught me with a stunner from behind. After…" she swallowed tightly and took a deep breath. "They left me for dead, and set the house on fire. I managed to crawl out, but was badly burned in the process. I stole a few potions from the Infirmary, fixed myself as best I could, and went back to the Lair. Fawkes helped with the pain somewhat, but grief and healing were put aside; there was work to be done. I designed the Glamour I now wear, and moved forward."

She sighed. "But that's neither here nor there. Albus was right…by the time I was done with his memories, I had the beginnings of the answers I needed. Moody had taken over the Order completely; Harry had become little more than a figurehead to parade out and increase morale. He was being encouraged to 'live a normal life while he could', or some bloody nonsense, and had ceased all of his studies in Defense and Occulemency."

"That ignorant boy," Snape murmured, his eyes wide.

"I finished going through the Pensieve, then started reading through every book in the Restricted Section; since I'd been through a good portion of them already, it only took a few weeks. Then I went to Drumstag and read through their library. The information on the Dark Arts was much more complete there, so I spent almost three full months there. As I read, I began to shape my plan…it had the potential to be a brilliant success, or a spectacular failure. To accomplish my goals, I knew I'd need practical instruction, not just books. One of the Professors at Drumstag was all too happy to further my studies in Occulemency and Legilimency, once he'd been paid handsomely, and another worked with me on my dueling and spell casting…I trained with them for six months or so, but then realized that I needed to approach things differently."

"Differently how?" Snape asked.

"All of the spells and techniques I was learning were commonly known," Hermione explained. "Even the less-used ones carried a sense of familiarity; they were predictable, as was the way the professor taught. I realized that if I wanted to have any kind of tactical advantage, I needed to learn dueling techniques from Masters who weren't from this region…they had different spells, you see, ones the Wizards here didn't know and wouldn't be able to counter. They also had different styles of approaching dueling.

"After a bit of research, I had my list set…twelve dueling experts from around the globe. I figured that I'd at least be able to convince some of them to teach me, but it turned out that every one of them agreed to take me on as a student, particularly when I removed my Glamour and told them of my mission. I worked with each of them for nine months apiece, and then I completed five years of intensive study with a Potions Master in South America."

Snape did some calculations in his head. She'd done around six months of studying, another six months of Occulemency, Legilimency, and dueling lessons at Drumstag, then nine months apiece with twelve different dueling masters, and five years of potions. Almost twenty _years_ of study, and yet it had only been six months since he'd fled Hogwarts.

"The timeline doesn't add up, I know," she said tiredly, though her voice was tinged with mild amusement. "I'll explain that later, when we have more time. For now, you're at the house Albus left me; all of your things are here, and you have somewhere safe to recover...I'll explain that in greater detail later on."

She fixed him with a hard look.

"I'll ask you straight out, Severus…I need your help. I can't finish this by myself. And I believe Albus when he said I could trust you."

She held up a hand when he opened his mouth. "We have a bit of time before you have to answer. Think on it, and drink this." She held up a vial containing an iridescent white liquid. At his questioning look, she elaborated. "It's a potion I've devised that will prevent the Dark Lord from reaching you through your Mark…if he tries, it gives the impression that the Mark is inactive due to your death. You got a dose right before I brought you here, in case he checked sooner, and subsequent doses with the healing potions I've been pouring down your throat for the last few days. It must be taken every six hours; in case I'm longer than that, there are extra vials on the nightstand, and the rest are down in the lab…I brewed an extra week's supply, and the instructions are in the lab downstairs as well if I don't return."

Snape's eyes widened again.

"I told you, you're safe here. It's only a temporary solution, really…I'm almost done with the research that should allow me to remove the Mark completely. Frankly, I can think of more aesthetically pleasing tattoos, can't you? I'll leave my notes for you to read over, if you wish."

Too stunned to reply, he nodded dumbly.

"Good." She hissed and grabbed her left arm. For the first time in twenty years, Severus felt nothing. "I have to go. I've made sure the Dark Lord thinks that you killed Malfoy, and I came along just in time to kill you. With two positions available in his Inner Circle, I might have a chance of moving up in the ranks. If he doesn't kill me." She stood, snatching up her silver mask. "I'll return as soon as I can."

And before he could generate any sort of reply, she was gone.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

**A/N: I think we've reached Official Countdown Time. Book 7 comes out Friday at midnight, so I have essentially 5 days to write 3-4 chapters (depending on how long it takes) and post the rest of the story. WOO is it gonna be a fun week! Hugs to all of my wonderful reviewers…I can't tell you how happy your comments make me.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 08**

It was nearly dawn when the Portkey spun her into the parlor. He'd managed to haul himself to one of the chairs there, though he hadn't the energy for much else.

"Welcome back," he said sardonically.

Her eyes were flat as she brushed away his attempt at humor, and he noticed belatedly that her hands were clenched into fists. "Excuse me for a moment…I need to shower," she said tightly, and left the room. He sighed, then began the process of hauling himself _back_ to the bedroom.

Over an hour had passed by the time she returned, bringing with her a small tray of vials. Two of them, she set out for him…his next dose of the 'Dark Mark suppressor', and another healing potion.

The remaining four she downed herself, one after the other. His blood began to boil when he saw what one of them was…a borderline Dark potion that would ensure that no seed would take root in her belly. Unlike the normal, easily obtained contraceptive potions, this one _always_ worked…and the witch paid a price. Used too many times, the potion could render her sterile.

She moved toward him, and he was startled when she walked around the chair she'd occupied some hours earlier and stretched out beside him on the bed.

"How did it go?" he asked softly.

"Well enough. I'm still in one piece, so that's something. The Dark Lord was still less than pleased that you'd killed Lucius, and we all were made aware of just how 'less than pleased' he was. I've risen in his esteem by 'killing' you myself, and he seemed to still be impressed with the way I dealt with Entwhistle. As my reward, I had the _privilege_ of going through the initiation to gain my full Death Eater status."

Because she was so close, he felt her shudder. He knew exactly what her initiation had entailed.

"How many?"

She sent him an incredulous look, and moved to get up. Snape continued as though he hadn't noticed her movement.

"There were five at my own…_initiation_."

She froze, and eased back down on the bed.

"I'd like to be able to offer platitudes, and say the memory will fade with time, but it won't."

"Twelve," she whispered. "There were twelve." Hermione drew a shuddering breath. "More than the first time, but at least there were no knives or my pesky virginity to contend with."

His eyes slid closed as a pained expression slid across his face. They both lay there in silence for some time, each dwelling on their own memories.

Eventually, Snape decided a change of topic was necessary.

"I wasn't aware that Albus had a house outside of Hogwarts…it seemed that he was always at the school."

Hermione shook herself out of her contemplations. "Albus liked secrets," she said with a soft smile. "And he liked surprising people even more. You make the second person in the entire world that knows about this house."

"Where exactly are we?" he asked.

"You know, I have absolutely no idea. There aren't any landmarks, cities, or people. The temperature here is certainly different than at Hogwarts…there's almost a foot of snow on the ground there. The landscape reminds me a bit of Italy, so we could be somewhere in that area, I suppose…maybe Sicily."

"Typical Albus," he said, then noticed her stifling a yawn.

"Well then," he said in his 'Professor' voice, with the air of someone who is used to being obeyed. "I believe you are exhausted, and I am at least tired. Let's try to rest while we can, and we can discuss things in greater detail later."

She nodded, and got up to leave.

"Miss Granger, where in Merlin's name do you think you are going?" he snapped, but his voice lacked any real anger.

Hermione turned to look at him as if he'd gone daft. "The couch, _Sir_," she said, emphasizing his title.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "For such an intelligent witch, one would think you would have realized that the size of this bed is more than adequate for two people."

She looked at him, as if trying to determine some ulterior motive. He just arched an eyebrow.

"I steal covers," she cautioned.

"I've been told I snore," he countered calmly. "Though that was quite some time ago."

Hermione was quiet for a moment longer before nodding and stepping back toward the bed. She sat on the edge to tug off her boots, then stood to take off her outer robes. When she removed them, he realized it was the first time she'd done so in his presence. His sharp inhalation caused her to turn around.

She was wearing neatly tailored black trousers, and a fitted black vest with a row of buttons up the front. He'd first thought her blouse to be black as well, but when she moved he saw it was an iridescent material that shifted between black and dark green.

"Do you like it?" she asked, a faint smile crossing her features as she looked down. "I modeled it after your wardrobe, actually. It's easier to hold a Glamour over a smaller part of your body, so I wanted something a bit more concealing than the clothes I used to wear. As an added bonus, it scares the piss out of the students and it's easier to move in."

"I quite agree," he murmured, still taking in her appearance. "I…it's quite fetching, actually."

She grinned and slipped into bed after removing her vest, leaving her blouse and slacks in place.

"You just like seeing me in Slytherin colors, you prat."

"And there's something wrong with that?" he teased. "Sleep well, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Severus," she said calmly.

**OXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

He woke some time later to the sound of her whimpering beside him. Nightmares were something that he was well familiar with. He'd just reached out to gently shake her awake when he found a wand pressed to his throat. Half-conscious, she drew in shuddering breaths as she brought herself back under control. He saw her eyes focus, and she quickly dropped the wand.

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you," she mumbled. "Time for your next dose." Before he could say anything, she got up and went to grab another vial from the dresser. She handed it to him and was buttoned up in her vest and robes within minutes.

"You should go back to sleep," she said. "I'm going to be down in the lab for awhile."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 09**

He was tired enough that he couldn't help drifting off again, though it took some time. The next time he woke, there was a strange weight across his legs, and Hermione was sitting in the chair beside his bed with another vial of the potion. He looked down at his feet, and was astonished to see a rather large, rather wild-looking cat laying there.

"Don't worry…Sora won't bother you."

Hearing her name, Sora sat up and yawned, displaying impressively long canines. Snape looked to Hermione in askance.

"She's a clouded leopard. The final dueling master I trained with gave her to me as a kitten. They've been hunted almost to extinction, and her parents were killed by poachers before she was rescued."

"You mentioned that you would explain your miraculous period of study, if I recall," he prompted, propping himself up more comfortably on the bed.

"So I did," she replied, getting more comfortable in her chair. "I'm not sure if you remember, but during my third year I was given a Time-Turner to take extra classes. Well, towards the end of the year, one of Malfoy's cronies slammed me into a wall, and it was broken. McGonagall let me keep it, as a souvenir, since it was obviously useless. What nobody realized was that I managed to fix it. I had just planned to use it for NEWTS study, but somehow that sort of studying lost importance after Albus died. I knew that it was dangerous to tamper with time, but that didn't matter anymore. After I'd gone through Albus's memories, I used the Time-Turner to regain those two months. Since I knew that nothing crucial had occurred at the time I started my research, I figured that it would be a safe 'return point'.

"Once I'd gotten back the time I spent going through Albus's memories, I read my way through the Hogwarts library, then used the Time-Turner to go backwards six months, to a day I knew I'd spent in Hogsmeade with the boys. I snuck through the castle and gathered a few things, including the untraceable Portkey Albus left that would take me wherever I wanted. I went to Drumstag, and spent six months repeating each day twice, so I'd have time to both go through the library and have my lessons.

"After that, I took myself back to another safe time…the summer after my Fifth Year; since very few people were in the castle, it was easier to avoid being seen.

"I grabbed up anything I thought would be of use, then was off to approach each of my teachers. I worked with Grandmaster Saitama in Japan, Master Trovatelli in Italy, Magus Chetana, leader of the Magi in India, and Master Sze Ma, head of the Emperor's Imperial Guard in China. Then there was Shaman O'wa, of the Khomani San Bushmen in the Kalahari Desert of Africa, Grandmaster Qiqirn in Greenland, and Woserit, High Priestess of the Temple of Sekhmet in Egypt. I then worked with Grandmaster Kaisaris in Greece, Astrid Ivarsdatter, a direct descendent of Freya, in Norway, Master Zhdanov in Russia, and Don Allejandro Fernandez of Spain. Finally, I studied with Grandmaster Kim Yusin of Korea, the last living person descended from the Hwarang warriors of the Silla Dynasty."

It had been Saitama that Snape had watched duel as a boy, and he knew each of the other people she mentioned by reputation; they were the best. He was surprised that Qiqirn was on her list…to his knowledge, the man hadn't taken on a student in over 65 years. Not since his student and protégé, Grindelwald, turned to the Dark Arts.

Hermione continued with her story.

"I would train with them for essentially nine months, use the Time-Turner to go back and regain the time, then move on to the next location. The training process was relatively similar in structure, regardless of my location. Starting at dawn, I was expected to hone my dueling skills on my own until noon. I was given a quarter-hour to eat, then during the hottest parts of the day we alternated between study and practice duels. The afternoon was one non-stop battle; they didn't care if I was tired, and it didn't matter if I was injured; I was supposed to ignore it and keep going. Almost all of them had me train with a weighted vest, and weights on my wrists and ankles; the weight was increased every month. In principle, by the time my training was complete and the weights were removed, I'd be so used to carrying the extra weight that it would make my movements quicker. Personally, I think it was some sort of trial-by-fire…I could tell that most of them didn't expect me, an outsider, to last a week."

She sighed. "Anyhow, at sunset I actually had an entire hour to heal my injuries, eat and bathe; then we spent several more hours on linguistics, so I could pronounce my spells correctly. Only after the Masters chose to dismiss me for the night could I rest. But of course, that was when they granted me my 'free time', when I was allowed to look at their personal libraries."

Snape snorted. That was an offer too tempting for Hermione Granger to refuse. She smiled as well.

"There were some of the most fascinating volumes in those libraries. I also used the time to work on casting the spells nonverbally. Sometimes I repeated days three or four times over, so I could accomplish what I needed to. In the beginning, I used dangerous amounts of stimulants to keep me going, but Grandmaster Saitama taught me meditation exercises that allowed me to function on no sleep at all for up to six days and still be focused. All in all, I ended up being about a year with each of them."

She leaned back in the chair, her eyes closing even as she continued to speak.

"After I'd finished learning what I could there, I was off to South America to complete my work with the Potions Master; as I mentioned before, that lasted five years. When I was done I went back to the day of Albus's funeral, then Apparated back to Hogwarts. The first thing I did was breach the wards of your rooms; thankfully I didn't have to use one of the main entrances, since they'd all been alarmed. There's a door behind one of the bookshelves in the Shadow Lair…it opens to a tunnel that leads to a small access panel in the back of your wardrobe. I removed everything I could that seemed important…clothes, books, notes, and all of your potions ingredients and equipment…and then came back here. I left the rooms looking just haphazard enough that anyone discovering them would think you'd managed to come back for your things. As his letter indicated, this house transferred to my possession when Albus died. It's completely Unplottable, and there is no record of it existing anywhere. I spent as long as I dared finalizing my plans, then presented myself to the Dark Lord. You know what's happened since then."

Snape was still trying to wrap his poor overtaxed brain around her story. He shook his head. "So how old are you, then?" he asked, wincing as he heard how pathetic that sounded. Of all the things to ask…

Hermione seemed to understand, though. "If you want to look at actual years lived, I think I'm close to forty now…maybe older, but I'd have to think about it. The Glamour maintains my appearance of youth as well."

He wondered what else hid beneath the spell. Her speech was more assured, as was the way she moved. It seemed her training had lent her a grace that had been absent while she was his student. But he still saw her as a student, as he'd seen her last…the girl outside his office, warning him that the castle was under attack. Try as he might, Severus wasn't able to imagine what this new Hermione Granger looked like. And he wanted to know.

ooOOOoo ooOOOoo ooOOOoo ooOOOoo ooOOOoo ooOOOoo

A/N: Keep the reviews coming!! They're keeping me sane this week. Hugs to you all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Hermione was up out of her chair, pacing; the talk of her past was bringing up all sorts of memories that she thought she'd locked firmly away.

"Severus," she said, obviously agitated, "I don't mean to pressure you, but have you thought about our initial discussion any more?"

He watched her stride from one end of the room to the other, amused in spite of the seriousness of their conversation.

"I have given your request much thought," he finally said.

"And?"

"I have a few questions and a request of my own."

She stopped pacing and took a moment to study him closely. Snape was completely unnerved…even the Dark Lord had never made him feel so exposed. It was as though she was able to see into the depths of his soul.

"You want me to remove the Glamour," she said. It wasn't even phrased as a question.

He nodded, and her eyes narrowed.

"I don't need your pity."

"And you shall not have it, any more than I have yours," he snapped. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to be calm. "Someone once told me that there was a significant difference between pity and compassion."

"Albus," Hermione said softly.

Snape nodded. "I didn't understand at the time, but I am…trying."

Looking away, Hermione sighed. "Tell me why you want me to remove the Glamour."

He found himself, so normally eloquent, fumbling for words. "I don't…I wish for there to be no pretense between us. And…I, well…"

She held up her hand, stopping his painful confession.

"You said you had questions?

He nodded, relieved that he'd been granted a reprieve. "You mentioned that you'd trained at Drumstag, in Occulemency and Legilimency, for six months."

"True," she confirmed, settling back into her chair.

"While I realize that you're still a know-it-all…" She snorted. "…even that isn't sufficient time to learn to deceive the Dark Lord."

"Ask one of the easy questions first, then?" she said with a small grin. "Remember I told you that Grandmaster Saitama taught me meditation exercises?" He nodded. "Well, each of the masters I studied with taught more than just dueling…he, Master Trovatelli, and Master Zhdanov continued my Occulemency and Legilimency lessons. Mistress Ivarsdatter and Grandmaster Qiqirn gave me extra training in Runes, while High Priestess Woserit and Grandmaster Kim furthered my studies in Arithmancy. Master Sze Ma taught me about ancient Chinese potions and healing. Then Shaman O'wa, Magus Chetana, and Don Allejandro worked with me in transfiguration...I could probably give Minerva a serious run for her money; I've had to be careful at the school not to appear too competent. Master Kaisaris taught me about battle strategies, and actually helped me with some of my research. Most of them also worked with me in some sort of hand-to-hand combat as well, or set me up with the people who could."

Hermione leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Now then; something tells me that your next question will be more complicated."

He nodded slowly. "At your first raid…and after, at the Revel…I understand better than anyone the need to maintain your cover, but…Hermione, he was your classmate. I just don't see how…"

"How I could act the part of an amoral sociopath, letting his parents die and ignoring the two young girls while I ripped Kevin into little bitty pieces?"

Snape swallowed the bile that the memories of that Revel brought forth. He'd seen many things over the years, but the actions of this one girl…his student, one of the Golden Trio…had left him completely stunned.

"What do you know of simulacra?" she asked.

He blinked. "Not much, I admit. I recall them being copies of something real…"

"Or some_one_," she said. "It's an ancient magic, all but lost today. There are only a few wizards and witches who can create a simulacrum, and almost none are able to do so with such detail that they give realistic reactions to their environment. And then there's the challenge of making the simulacrum appear to have magic. Shaman O'wa gave me an extensive education; the tribes have been using them for centuries when they needed to send high-ranking members of the tribe into hostile environments." She sighed. "The Dark Lord may be a good Occulemens…but I'm a better Legillimens. I picked up on the attack a few days before it happened, and had just enough time to move the family to safety and replace them with simulacra. Everything that happened that night happened to a set of carefully crafted spells mixed with the four elements."

"Astonishing," he murmured.

"They've been quite useful; I used one of you to convince the Dark Lord I'd killed you." Hermione smiled, teasing gently. "I can teach you how to create them, if you're willing to put up with the role-reversal."

"Perhaps," Snape agreed. The Slytherin in him formed the next question. "What will happen to me? Afterwards, that is."

She settled back in her chair. "As I see it, you have several options available to you. You could come back with me, and watch me gleefully beat everyone over the head until they stuff it about this Death Eater nonsense. Alternatively, you could casually disappear; I can give you the key to this house, and you can live out the rest of your days in privacy doing whatever you wish. I'm sure there are other avenues to explore, but the bottom line is that it's entirely up to you, and I shall honor whatever decision you make."

He nodded. "I believe we've come to my request."

She tensed slightly. "So we have." Her brow furrowed as she thought, then cleared. "You must understand…I cannot leave the Glamour off. I've practiced with it for years so that it's essentially become a part of me. No matter what happens, even if I'm killed, the Glamour will remain until someone who knows the spell physically removes it. I can't risk having to dash off with it not firmly in place."

"I understand," he said. "And after this is over?"

"Perhaps," she agreed. "Though it isn't pretty."

He remained silent, and she sighed. "As you wish."

Drawing her wand, she stood and began to chant as she methodically tapped each of her seven chakra points sequentially, ending with the one on the crown of her head. When her wand touched the last one, the air around her shimmered, blurring her image. After it cleared, he saw the real Hermione Granger for the first time since he'd fled Hogwarts.

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A/N: Yes, I apologize for the bit of suspense. I realize that most of us will not even be thinking of fic for at least the next day or so; I figured I'd give you reason to come back! I myself was standing in line outside our local Borders book store this morning at 8am, to acquire my bracelet. Indeed, the sacred ORANGE bracelet that means I will be among the first 150 people to receive my book at midnight tonight!!! I'm heading over around 7:30 tonight, as there is supposedly a party at the store, complete with costume contests, 'Wizard's chess', and all sorts of other nonsense!

A/N #2: Unfortunately, I did not meet my goal of completion before Book 7 arrived. This should probably be considered AU from now on (unless something miraculously eerie takes place and Book 7 rolls JUST like my fic! LOL!!) Love you all, and please keep the reviews coming, even if they wait until you've inhaled the book!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I can't afford any of this. I swear.

A/N: I have no excuse for why it has been a YEAR since this was last updated. Book 7 threw me for a loop, to be sure, then I've been fiddling with bits of the remaining chapters. School, work, buying a house...I could go on, but I'm sure you all would much rather read the story. Thank you to everyone who is still reading and reviewing; I _**promise **_it will not take another 12 months for me to update again.

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**Chapter 11**

She was taller than he would have expected, and leaner; there were lines at the corners of her mouth that hadn't been there before. Her hair was streaked with silver, and she wore it longer than she had in school; he noted that she used it to shield her face, just as he often did. Her eyes beneath the Glamour were as guarded as his own, but he could sense the pain behind them.

And she was right…it wasn't pretty.

Because of the Time-Turner, the injuries she'd told him about were now more than twenty years healed. Despite that, some of the visible scars were still an angry red color, indicating that whatever made the cuts had been infused with Dark magic. One particularly painful-looking one started at her temple and traveled down the side of her face. It continued down her neck and disappeared under the high neckline of the blouse she wore under her robes. He was sure her clothes hid the more serious scars.

Part of the right side of her face had been burned; her right hand also bore burn scars, and he wondered how far they continued. Watching his eyes, she answered his unasked question.

"The burns cover most of the right half of my body. Once the fire hit the gas lines, the house exploded, and I wasn't far enough away. Ironically, that was probably what saved me…the fire cauterized some of the more serious cuts, so I didn't immediately bleed to death. As for the other scars, they cover most of my body, though I think my back is the worst."

Snape frowned. "I don't understand…most of these injuries could have been tended by any…"

"…Any competent and nosey Mediwitch? I'm well aware of that. Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury at the time. If you recall, I was still in the early stages of my plotting, and I couldn't afford the loss of time or anyone finding out about my condition. I did the best I could. Maybe once the Dark Lord falls, I'll see if any of it can be…well, it's too late for 'fixed', but maybe the Healers can make it less noticeable."

She shot him a self-depreciating smile. "At least I won't have to beat off flocks of suitors once the War is over."

He made a decision then and there, dropping his own Glamour with a single word. To her credit, only a nearly imperceptible twitch at the corner of her mouth gave away her surprise.

His hair was less greasy, but there were streaks of gray through it, particularly around his temples, that matched her own. He looked even paler than before, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Hermione's eyes traced the now-visible scars on his chest and face. His shirt had been removed while she was healing him, but at the time the true condition of his body had still been magically shielded.

Turning slowly, he moved until his back was to her, knowing she would be able to see the map of scars that crisscrossed his back.

"Lucius has favored the scourge for many years," he said softly.

He heard nothing behind him, so was startled when he felt a cool hand brush his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" he protested. "It is I who should be thanking you, not the other way around."

"For being willing to help me…for understanding. Just for being you." Hermione smiled wryly. "I should be loath to admit it because I'm sure you'll use it against me later, but you've been one of my biggest motivations through all this." He looked confused, so she tried to explain. "After I'd finished with Albus's memories, and gone over his instructions, I was resolved to do whatever it took to bring down the Dark Lord. It wasn't much of a change, really…just a reaffirmation of a vow I'd made when I was twelve, even though I was alone this time. What was different was _you_.

"When I realized that my current skill level couldn't contribute anything useful that would help you, keep you safe, I knew I needed to explore other avenues…my books could only take me so far before practical application became necessary. I knew you were stuck in your role as a Death Eater, and couldn't afford to trust anyone. And you'd always been…important to me."

She sat on the edge of the bed, but didn't look at him.

"Everything I've done…the training, the planning, all the work…Severus, I woke up every day for fifteen _years_, knowing I was just subjecting myself to another round of torturous exercises, and another five years that were not much better. But knowing that it was not only going to bring about the fall of the Dark Lord, but was also going to let me help you, even in some small way…it was enough to keep me going." She sighed. "I suppose in the end, I'm still just a silly little girl, trying to win your approval."

Recovering from his speechlessness, he cleared his throat. "Hermione, you are many things, but a 'silly little girl' is not one of them." He snorted, somewhat amused. "Particularly not since you are now close to my own age."

She chuckled. "Git."

"Have I ever claimed to be anything else?"

Snape moved slowly then, giving her plenty of time to withdraw if she chose. She flinched when his arm settled around her, though she didn't move away. He gently tugged until they were both laying down, her head resting against his shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time.

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A/N#2: There it is. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it, even though it took me forever to get it posted. I will get the next chapter up as soon as humanly possible, but I've got a huge paper coming due in about 2 weeks. Most likely after that.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own none of this

Note #1 - Hopefully I've mentioned this in prior chapters, but this in no way follows the events of Book 7. The reasons are two-fold. First, I started this FAR too long ago, and there was no such thing as Deathly Hallows when I did. Second, I was not over-fond of Book 7, so saw no reason to even attempt to adhere to it when it _did _come out.

Note #2 - I am ashamed of myself that I allowed such a ricockulous amount of time to elapse between updates. There is no excuse for this naughtiness, and I can only hope that you will accept my humblest apologies. I will have a discussion with my beta, Rickmanlover24601, and have her bring out the Motivation Stick to beat me with.

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Chapter 12

The next morning found him feeling immensely better. Hermione had apparently risen previously, as he was alone. As he pulled on some actual clothes, he realized something. Leaving the bedroom, he took a quick tour of the house; Hermione was nowhere to be found. The he remembered she'd mentioned a lab. Finding a door that seemed to lead down to a basement, he tried his luck.

"Hermione?" he called.

"Down here, Severus," came the muffled reply.

Making sure to shut the door behind him, he made his way down the stairs. "I was just wondering…"

He trailed off, practically gaping at what he saw before him. Sora, who had followed him down, twined around his legs as he looked around in wonder. He was standing in what was, quite possibly, the most perfect potions lab he'd ever seen.

It was certainly larger than the floor plan of the house, and was an intriguing mix of the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. In a corner, there was some kind of cabinet that appeared to pull harmful vapors up and out. There were also two metal cabinets, one marked "Flammable" and the other "Explosive"…he assumed these were for the storage of volatile ingredients.

The main floor was taken up by four solid benches; one appeared to be some sort of wood, one was copper, the third was slate, and the final was cream colored granite with grey and black swirls. Hermione was currently working at the slate bench, while several other potions seemed to be in various stages of preparation at each of the others.

Dark wooden shelves lined one of the walls from floor to ceiling. Each shelf had a one-inch lip along the front that would prevent things from falling off. All of her ingredients were stored in matching cut-glass containers and vials, with etched silver plates identifying the contents.

Unsurprisingly, everything was meticulously organized, much as he himself would have done.

As his eyes scanned the room, he smirked as he read a plaque that hung over the sink:

Mission Statement

_We the willing, let by the unknowing_

_Are doing the impossible_

_For the ungrateful._

_We have done so much for so long_

_With so little_

_We are now qualified to do anything_

_With nothing._

Another wall contained a series of cases. They were framed with the same sort of wood as the shelving, but were otherwise entirely of glass. The backing was silver that had been polished to a mirror shine, and some sort of lighting kept them brightly illuminated. He was shocked to see that he recognized the logo on the vials inside…Phoenix's Song. He'd been seeing them advertised and carried in elite apothecaries for the last four years.

"It's good to see you up and around," she said absently. "Give me just a moment."

A golden haze formed above her cauldron, shifted to an emerald green color, and then dissipated.

"There! All finished."

"How…" Snape asked as he continued to take everything in. Hermione smirked, and began to explain as she bottled the potion.

"Six years ago, my grandmother passed away. She was quite well-off, and left me her entire estate. I used part of the money to outfit a lab at her Manor, and started experimenting with potions. At first, it was just something to pass the time, and give me a bit of spending money. Imagine my surprise when it took off," she said wryly. "About four years ago, everything really started to accelerate; during the hols, I was working practically around the clock to fill the current orders and replenish the stock. All of my business is done through Owl-Post, which made things a bit easier, and I hired someone to handle the sales and deliveries during the school year."

He nodded; he'd seen the adverts in most of the top-tier Potions journals he'd subscribed to when he was at Hogwarts.

"I found out early on that the interaction between the cauldron and the bench will influence the properties of the potion…some more than others, but it does make a difference. The wood is from a 592-year-old Ironwood tree from the Sonoran Desert; bastards were just cutting it down to make way for a road. The granite is called Bianco Romano, from Brazil, and the copper is from the Chuquicamata mine in Atacama, Chile. The slate came from Xiamen, in China."

"Impressive," he said, still somewhat distracted by his surroundings. Then his mind latched on to her statement. "Wait…I seem to recall an article…"

"Oh, that one in Potions Quarterly? By Bianca Quince?" She smiled deviously.

"And you've been publishing," he said, comprehension dawning. He remembered multiple articles written by Bianca Quince, someone who had apparently just materialized out of thin air in the Potions world and had no qualms making waves and challenging the status quo.

Hermione nodded. "For a while now. It seemed easier to do everything through a pseudonym. And if any of the buyers insisted on meeting the owner of Phoenix's Song, I altered my Glamour." She flicked her wand and suddenly looked like a distinguished, middle-aged witch. Her eyes were a startling shade of purple, complemented by perriwinkle business robes, and her sleek black hair was pinned up in an elegant chignon. Another flick and she was back to herself. "As you can see, I've had plenty of experience hiding who I really am." There was a brief flash of sadness in her features, but it was quickly replaced. "I made the shelving from Ironwood as well," she said. "It was a pain to work with, but the result was well worth it. The top shelves of the ingredients cabinets will magically come down to eye-level, as required."

He noticed that she was placing each vial on a somewhat fragile-looking tray. She walked over to one of the glass cases and tapped the glass twice with her wand; the glass disappeared. At her gesture, the tray rose from the table and came to hover at her elbow.

"That could be another option for you after the War, if you wish. You can take up residence in the Manor and continue to run Phoenix's Song under the guise of Bianca Quince."

Snape blinked, but then drew a breath to bring up something that had been bothering him.

"I have a…problem…that I have recently become aware of," he remarked.

She smirked. "I'm surprised it took you this long to realize it was gone."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm assuming you're referring to your wand, yes?" He nodded, and she continued as she put the last of the vials on the shelf. "I don't know if you remember, but Lucius took it right before he tried to kill you; probably wanted a trophy to take back to Moldy-wart, in addition to your head. Unfortunately, when the bastard crumpled to the ground your wand was broken."

Snape inhaled sharply. Like most witches and wizards, he'd grown very attached to his wand. He'd been carrying that one since he was five years old; it had been the last gift he'd received from his mother, before she died.

With his wand broken, he'd have to find some way to surreptitiously acquire one, then get used to appropriately channeling his magic with the new instrument.

Seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil, Hermione continued talking.

"Luckily, it was intact enough for me to figure it out. Ebony, thirteen and an eighth, and a core of unicorn colt hair. The hair had been broken when the wand snapped, but thanks to a clever spell I designed, I was able to track down the herd the day after I brought you here. Your original donor is grown now, of course, but one of his mares had just thrown twin foals, a colt and a filly; he offered me a hair from each, and I was able to combine them with your old one to create a braided core. The functionality won't change, but it will respond more rapidly."

She drew a wand from one of the pockets of her robes.

"Oh, and I designed it so you'll have three different power levels accessible to you," she continued. "The middle one, the default, will act almost exactly like your old wand; the lower will be much more useful for delicate tasks, and the higher level will be absolutely ideal for blasting rose bushes and Death Eaters. You can change the settings with a thought, so it shouldn't interfere in the middle of a duel; you'll just need a bit of practice.

"As for the wand itself, I accessed the records that tracked the sources of wood Ollivander used, and popped over to the Celebes Islands while you were resting yesterday. Your tree was more than happy to gift us with another branch; lovely temperament, and so eager to help. The handle is your original one, but the shaft is made from the new wood."

Holding it up, she examined it critically.

"Not a bad piece of work, actually, if I do say so."

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A/N: I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter. The 'Mission Statement' plaque described here is actually hanging in my cubicle. I do love my job, but I definitely have 'headdesk' days.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: OH MY WIZARD GOD, IT'S ANOTHER CHAPTER! I am so ashamed of how long it took me to update this, I'm ironing my hands as we speak. Legal recap: I own nothing, and this is soooo not DH compliant.

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**Chapter 13**

"_Not a bad piece of work, actually, if I do say so."_

Holding it out to him, Hermione finally noticed that he was just staring at her.

"What?"

It took him a few tries to form the words. "Hermione, what in the bloody hell are you talking about?"

She eyed him, taking in his reaction. "Severus, what was your training like, when you were learning to duel?" Hermione asked.

He was somewhat thrown off by her question, but thought back. "Admittedly different than what you described," he said. "I had three-hour lessons four days per week for one year. The training was rigorous, yes, but I don't think I ever felt my instructor was actually trying to kill me."

She chuckled. "That was part of the fun! Although I think I'll be forever paranoid."

"Two decades of spying will do that as well," he said wryly.

"What about your wand?"

He was puzzled. "What about it?"

"Did you have a formal dueling wand, from your training?"

His eyebrows rose in surprise; it was easy to forget this easygoing witch had gone through the same sort of experiences he had. "Actually, I did," Snape replied. "I so rarely use it anymore I'd nearly forgotten."

Hermione nodded. "_Accio_ Severus Snape's dueling wand!"

In just a few moments, it had whizzed down to the lab and was resting in her hands.

"It must have been in your rooms," she said, turning the wand to examine it thoroughly. "Holly, with a wyvern scale core. Interesting," she mused. "Your instructor was English, I take it?"

Snape nodded, and Hermione passed him both wands.

"Outside of England, the Masters keep a similar practice, with a new wand being a part of the training process. What everyone neglects to mention is that instead of just giving you a finished wand at the beginning of your training, you actually have to make your own wand _before_ your training begins. You have to find just the right piece of wood, that agrees to be made into a wand, and then you have to find the creature that possesses its magical core. Either the core is freely given, or you must conquer the creature and take what you need. You're given 21 days to get the necessary materials, and if you return alive, you have another 21 days to design and craft your wand by hand…using any type of magic would taint it. If you fail, the Masters feel you aren't worthy of the training to begin with. Completing the training means you've earned the right to carry the wand you've crafted."

Snape was astonished. "So you mean you have…"

"A total of fourteen wands, yes. My original one I got before my arrival at Hogwarts, from Ollivander's, twelve I had to create with my dueling masters, and one from my potions study in South America; I wouldn't have expected him to have me make a wand, but he did."

"So when you first came before Voldemort, and surrendered your wand…"

"I was carrying thirteen others." She snickered. "Only someone truly insane would surrender her only wand to the Dark Lord. And despite the face I put on at the meetings and the additional twenty-some years, I'm still the same boringly rational Hermione Granger underneath."

From various hidden places, she began to pull out wand after wand, laying them on the bench as she identified each one.

"Kunugi, with a Ningyo scale core. Cypress, with a core of heliotrope fairy tears. Suar, with an Indian gryphon feather core. Quince, with a tortoise handle and a core containing the essence of phoenix flame; I used up almost the entire time allotted figuring out how to contain _that_. Camel thorn, with a Kishi hair core; they were crafty little buggers. Olive, with a core of ground chimera horn. Mountain ash, with a Tupilak flesh core; that was a hideous beast. Palm, with an Axex crest core. Maple, with a kraken tooth core. Bloody beast spent a week trying to drown me and another ignoring me altogether…it actually came around when I mentioned the giant squid, from school; turned out to be a cousin or something. Larch, with a firebird feather core. Holm oak, with a core of Mairu blood. And finally, ginkgo, with a powdered cockatrice shell core.

"These," she said as she pulled two similar-looking wands out, "are the ones from my Potions Master. He knew of you, and had me craft one for you as well." Hermione passed him the slightly darker one of the pair, also holding her own up for him to examine.

"Mine is elder, polished with geranium oil. Yours is cedar, finished with vetivert oil. He said the oils would enhance their power. He also made me brew a very complex potion to treat the wood with before I began assembling them…he knew I planned to help you, and was more or less aware of what we'd be facing. No matter where we are, these wands will always be able to find one another. The magical core in each is the heartstring of a Mapinguari. Yes, they do exist, and no, you do not want to meet one." She shuddered. "Trust me. Anyhow, as you can see, I've had quite a bit of experience crafting wands, so putting yours together while you were recovering was a straightforward enough task. And with three, you're at least one-up on most Wizards," she said with a grin.

"You know," he said, still trying to process everything she'd told him, "you have yet to say who you studied with for your Potions work."

Hermione shot him a sly look. "I assume you're familiar with Dominik Schreiber?"

Snape looked incredulous. "The Potions Master who was found guilty of poisoning two of his Apprentices, stripped of his title and banished from Europe? Who disappeared more than thirty years ago?"

"The same," she replied.

"But he's dead! Everyone has thought so…there's been no word from him for over a decade!"

"Well, 'everyone' was wrong. He's alive, I can assure you, and as wily and cantankerous as he ever was."

"You actually _Apprenticed_ with him?"

"He's not too bad, really, once you get used to his quirks. And to answer the question you wanted to ask, he poisoned his former Apprentices for ineptitude and carelessness." She shrugged. "Early on, he tried to tell me that _Abrus precatorius_ was edible when it was actually quite deadly, but I think that was more of a test than anything else. I never gave him any reason to find fault, and caught him out the few times he tried to poison me.

"Dominik was the only person who knew about my Time-Turner; he was unexpectedly familiar with the goings-on here, so was surprised I had one. He agreed to move through time with me…we'd train for a year, move to a different area, go back and regain that year, and repeat the cycle." She smiled. "I think the old buzzard was actually sorry to see me go…I promised to visit him after this is all over."

Snape smirked. "Only you would befriend an insane recluse and win him over."

"Oh, I don't know, Severus," she teased. "After six years with you, Dominik was practically a pushover."

"Impertinent wench," he growled.

"Have I ever claimed to be anything else?" she tossed back.

Later, he'd admit that he'd set himself up for it, though he would claim it was because he hadn't the opportunity to verbally spar with someone capable in too long.


End file.
